


This is Our Fate, I'm Yours

by lovethatwewerein



Series: Seblaine Week 2020 [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mentioned Kurt Hummel, Past Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: Sebastian Smythe had never put much stock in soulmates, neither as a child filled with whimsy or as a teenager much more fascinated with coaxing pleasure from strangers with little more than a teasing hand and a silver tongue. His parents had been doomed from the start, a father married more to work than a wife who much preferred the company of a foreign city, and he’d never known a lifelong love to last.Fate, he had decided at nine years old as his parents officially filed for divorce, was a bitch.___Day 3 - Free Day
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: Seblaine Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842061
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60
Collections: Seblaine Week 2020





	This is Our Fate, I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'I'm Yours' by Jason Mraz

Sebastian Smythe had never put much stock in soulmates, neither as a child filled with whimsy or as a teenager much more fascinated with coaxing pleasure from strangers with little more than a teasing hand and a silver tongue. His parents had been doomed from the start, a father married more to work than a wife who much preferred the company of a foreign city, and he’d never known a lifelong love to last. 

Fate, he had decided at nine years old as his parents officially filed for divorce, was a bitch. 

Dalton Academy, he’d discovered upon thorough research, was hardly interested in matters so frivolous as destined romance - one of the many things that enticed him, along with a superior lacrosse programme and being strictly male - and his father had been more than willing to pay tuition. That, for a time, was the best thing that ever happened to him. 

Following his acceptance, however, was the inability to do anything more than accumulate a dozen bruises a day from walking into furniture. His sudden clumsiness meant that lacrosse was, for reasons that had never affected him in the past at all, out of the question so, in a feat that he would typically find excessively embarrassing if he wasn’t talented at everything he put his mind to, he joined Dalton’s show choir. 

Blaine Anderson, much too short for Sebastian’s usual tastes but with an ass that more than made up for it, led the group in various Top 40 hits, leaving everything but singing lead to the council. He’d been aware of Trent Nixon taking Wesley’s place at the table (both physically and metaphorically), but it hadn’t made an awful lot of sense until now. 

The complaints about paperwork he’d heard in the past, eavesdropping on the supposed rockstars of the school for entertainment, disappeared almost instantly, Nixon somehow incredible at keeping track of medical details Sebastian himself would only be able to recall with the records in front of him. He made sure that the Warblers, especially Blaine, were given the opportunity to shine without the hassle of forms. 

Harwood, after taking an awful fall in lacrosse practise before the year even really got underway, was another matter entirely. 

“Smythe,” Thad had yelled just before Sebastian had hurried out the door, prompting a sigh but gaining his full attention. “How good of a dancer are you?” 

Sebastian shrugged, much as he enjoyed to boast, this wasn’t something he was about to offer himself up to. “I didn’t take lessons regularly for almost a decade for no reason if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“I need you to arrange and teach the choreography once the setlist is decided, and probably for the rest of the year as well,” he’d admitted, face pinching at the idea of giving up the most important thing he contributed to the group. “I obviously can’t do it and, much as I love Blaine, he has an affinity for jumping on furniture and twirling around that won’t exactly impress the judges.” 

Sebastian had smirked, agreed, and immediately regretted both of those things upon realising the time he’d spend with Anderson. 

There was never a moment with Blaine, as he’d insisted on being called ( _“yes, Sebastian, even mentally”_ ), where he tripped over his own feet or stumbled into end tables. It was refreshing not to leave a room with his skin turning into a medley of yellows and purples and blacks.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” 

They’d collapsed on the floor of the stage after everyone else left practice, resolute in fine-tuning the moves so Trent didn’t cause a broken nose, when Blaine asked, staring at him with far-too-bright hazel eyes. 

He turned his gaze to the ceiling, focusing on the heat of the stage lights overhead, and answered, “Who wants the universe to decide who they love?”

Blaine fell silent and, for just a moment, he let himself believe that soulmates could be real since Blaine surely did. “I don’t think they’re real,” The words broke through the bubble they’d surrounded themselves in. He hummed in inquiry. “I used to but…”

“But then you fell in love with someone you weren’t tied to?”

“Then I realised that the universe is cruel and fate is bullshit.” 

The admission surprised him, the reveal that someone with such a massive heart could agree with his sentiments, but Sebastian let himself bask in Blaine Anderson - as people often do. 

His curls were fighting free of the gel usually plastered to his head, skin shining with a light sheen of sweat from going over choreography. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took, the subtle inhale and exhale much louder in the large room than it would normally ever be. Blaine wasn’t looking at him, staring at a spot on the wall with a crazed intensity, and Sebastian wasn’t entirely convinced anyone had ever looked so beautiful. 

It was tempting, much too tempting really, to lean over and kiss the other in that moment. To give up everything, take advantage of his sudden co-ordination, and blow Blaine Anderson’s mind.

Instead, he let his own eyes stray away from the boy beside him and just listen to his breathing steady in the large atrium as they sat against the cold floor. 

*

Sectionals came and they owned it. Thad only joined them onstage when the winners were announced, waiting amongst strangers to watch them perform for the first time since his joining the Warblers. They won, of course they won, and he let himself be a part of the community for the first time. 

In true Warbler fashion, or so he learned after they put the trophy in the cabinet in the senior commons, Nick was throwing a victory party, his parents obviously somewhere with people they found vastly more interesting than their son. Most boys brought their own alcohol, Sebastian included, for no greater purpose than freeing their minds from all conscious thought. 

“Do you ever pretend the red string of fate actually exists?” Blaine flops down beside him, drink splashing slightly over the edge of his cup. He’s got his polo shirt buttoned-up the whole way, tight around his throat in a way that should be far from appealing, but his bowtie is undone and his curls are totally loose. 

“What’d you mean?” he took his time pushing the words out, wondering if they made any sense at all. “Like, connecting you to your soulmate?” 

Blaine nods, squeezing his eyes shut tightly even as he sips his drink. “Just tug at the air above your wrist and… and imagine there’s someone at the other end.” 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, killer?” 

“Like this.” 

And Blaine reaches for Sebastian’s wrist, his palm warm against the skin there, and tugs at the air around it, pushing his hand closer to Sebastian. The angle, so difficult to find balance in even when sober, causes him to fall forward into his chest, drink dropping to the floor and seeping into the carpet. 

“Careful, Anderson.” 

“I thought I told you to call me Blaine.” 

Before Sebastian can process what’s happening, Blaine’s lips are on his and he’s reaching for his thigh so the boy can straddle his lap. It’s public, they’re drunk, but Blaine is panting when he stands up, leading Sebastian upstairs to one of the guest rooms and he can’t find it in himself to complain. 

*

He registered the pounding in his head first, the sun streaming through the window onto his face second, and the soft breathing of Blaine beside him third. Each thing, at their turn of reveal in his mind, comes with a steady stream of regrets. 

Sleeping with Blaine was never his plan, it wasn’t something he believed he’d have the chance to do even without his body’s odd aversion to grace, but now the boy was asleep next to him and he wasn’t familiar enough with the layout of Nick’s house to escape quickly. 

So, because really it would be worth far too much effort, he throws himself back down on the pillow and wraps his arm around Blaine before falling back to sleep. 

*

Blaine shakes him awake the second time, groaning loudly at the pain in his forehead. 

“What did we do?” his voice is gravelly, still heavy with sleep and Sebastian didn’t realise waking up with a hangover could be so sexy. 

“Honestly? No clue, Anderson,” he admits, shaking his head and then stopping immediately at the headache it caused. “I know what we could do.” 

“You’re awful.” 

“Are you gonna complain?” 

Blaine blinks down at him, the sun shining through the still-open curtains forming a halo around his head, curls more riotous than they’d ever been. “I might if you don’t do something to stop me.” 

Sebastian grins, giving himself over to the still-there pull of his drinks from last night and how delectable Blaine looks in the morning light. “You got it.” 

They aren’t lovers, barely even friends to be fair, but the house is still and they may as well make the most of the warmth of their bodies under the comforter. 

*

The days pass and they prepare for regionals, exchanging kisses in dark alcoves of Dalton and going about their days. He thinks Trent suspects something, that he may have taken it upon himself to interrogate Blaine, but the other boy doesn’t say anything and Sebastian doesn’t push. 

“Didn’t you date him?” 

They’re sat going through the competition forms with Trent, scanning show choir blogs, the name Kurt Hummel glaring up at him with contempt from the screen. Blaine nods, biting his lip as his eyes drift over the photo in front of them. 

It’s not jealousy curling in the pit of his stomach, bringing the bitterness up his throat and souring his taste buds. It’s not. It’s just that Blaine clearly liked the boy enough to wish he were his soulmate once upon a time and he can’t begin to understand the appeal. 

“He looks like he doesn’t even know what a blowjob is.” 

“Sebastian!” 

He shrugs, chuckling quietly at Trent’s horrified gasp, interrupting before he can go into a rant about propriety and ethics. “I’m just saying. I even know how to give a good blowjob.” 

“Are you saying I don’t?” Blaine asks, his eyes shining with mischief that Sebastian had come to recognise since Nick’s party over a month ago. 

He grins, tugging Blaine closer to him by the wrist, a move that had started to come naturally since they became whatever they are. It’s flirting and comfort and a dozen other things that settle the envy bubbling in him. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d give you a solid 8.5.” 

“You know I’m better than that.” 

“Prove it,” Trent glares at him, pointing at the door with his cheeks flaming. Winking at the other Warbler, he pulls Blaine up and across the room. “We’ve got a bit of time before dinner.” 

*

He stands next to Blaine the entire time Kurt Hummel is around. It isn’t intentional - not completely at least - but he can feel Blaine tense under his fingers and knows that he’d rather be there if things go south. 

He can’t tell what Hummel’s angle is, if he’s trying to shoot his shot or make Blaine jealous over things that mean nothing, but he knows that he doesn’t like him in the slightest. Blaine is chuckling, even if it’s a bit forced, and Sebastian just wants to lead him away so they can kiss before going on stage. 

“We’ve got to go and talk to Thad before we go on,” he whispers in Blaine’s ear, knowing that the rush of warm breath on his face will distract him from Hummel long enough to pay attention. “You can catch up after.” 

“You don’t have to be jealous.” Blaine tells him when they walk away, weaving through crowds of students in costumes much more complicated than their blazers. He shakes his head. “I’m not jealous.” 

Blaine stretches up and kisses his cheek, “I think it’s hot.” 

“You don’t have time to do anything about it.” 

“Later.” Blaine promises, approaching Thad as though he hadn’t made Sebastian horny with just a few choice words. 

Surely, if he had a soulmate, they’d understand that Blaine Anderson was competition regardless. 

*

It’s not that Blaine never initiates what they do - it just doesn’t happen often enough not to take him by surprise. 

“What brought this on?” He asks, gripping Blaine’s waist to drag his hips down over his own. He’s not even taken his shirt off, hasn’t had the chance with Blaine pouncing on him the second he entered the room, but Blaine’s just as hot fully clothed and lacking restraint. 

“Does there have to be a reason?” 

He leans down to kiss Sebastian’s neck, panting as he rolls against him. “Suppose not.” 

He shuts up after that, only moaning when Blaine undoes his belt, dragging a hand over the front of his pants. It’s hot and heavy and he knows that there’s something on Blaine’s mind. But he’s kissing down his chest, twisting his hand around his cock, and he’s so lost in the pleasure of it that it can definitely wait until later. 

He reciprocates, of course he does, and Blaine is a mess of sweaty limbs lying on his chest afterwards. He trails his finger up the other boy’s back when his breathing finally calms down, waiting until he’s sure Blaine is relaxed before he bothers asking again. 

“You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

He can sense Blaine’s hesitation, the slight quiver in his jaw until he decides to respond. “My mum said something to me when I went home earlier than really… it just set me off. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he shifts so his arm doesn’t fall asleep. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“She thinks you might be my soulmate.” 

They let it linger in the air between them, and he tries to swallow all the nerves building just so Blaine doesn’t think he’s reacting badly. If he were to be honest, something he very rarely was, the calm that came with being around Blaine made him think about it once or twice. 

“It’s a load of rubbish, obviously.” 

“How is that obvious, Anderson?” It didn’t hurt that Blaine sounded so sure that they weren’t. _Didn’t_. “I don’t think it’s obvious at all.” 

Blaine looks up at him. “You think we could be soulmates?” A pause. Then, “I thought you didn’t believe in soulmates.” 

“I don’t,” he shrugs helplessly, grasping at straws. “But if they did exist I just… I don’t think it would be that big of a stretch.” 

A grin next, followed by a quick peck on the lips. “Are you saying that you’d want me to be your soulmate?” 

He has two choices - admitting that, despite all his words about not believing in love at all, he could easily see himself in love with Blaine or to kiss him until he forgot his name. The second is tempting, familiar and easy, but maybe it’s time for him to let his guard down a little bit and see what happens. 

“I’m saying that I wouldn’t complain if you were.” 

Showing just a tiny amount of weakness comes with the convenient reward of a blinding grin and a damn good blowjob. 

Maybe he should try doing it more often. 

*

He meets Blaine’s parents over the spring, the flowers in their garden beginning to bloom after one of the nicer winters he’d seen in his life. Pam is sweet and nurturing and she’s hovering constantly like she’s resisting the urge to say something. It might be the soulmate thing. The way Michael shakes his head at her whenever she goes to mention something aside from the weather or Dalton tells him that it’s definitely the soulmate thing. 

There’s part of him that wants her to bring it up regardless. 

She doesn’t. 

Not until Blaine and his father are out of earshot at least. 

“I know Blaine told you what I said,” she tells him, offering him a biscuit even though there’s one sitting untouched on the table next to his cup. “I didn’t mean to intrude on whatever relationship you two have.” 

“It’s fine, Mrs Anderson,” When she glares at him not calling her by her first name, he’s reminded of Blaine a strangely large amount. They really are quite alike. “It didn’t change anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I just know that, as much as he says otherwise, he does want to find his one true love.” 

“He seems pretty turned off the idea to me.” 

“A mother just knows, Sebastian,” she whispers, hazel eyes flicking to the doorway at the sound of Blaine’s voice. “And I really do think that, even if you aren’t meant to be, you could both find happiness with each other.” 

He nods, ignoring Blaine’s raised eyebrow as he sits down beside him. He’s sure he’ll be interrogated later but, for now, it’s simpler just to nod along until the conversation turns to a recent tennis match streamed live on the television. 

*

It’s a month after regionals when the topic comes up, rears its ugly head the way it always does in its quest to ruin all good things. They’re in Sebastian’s room, Thad off trying to argue his case for joining the lacrosse team so late in the season, and Blaine hasn’t spoken the entire time. 

“What are we?” 

“What do you mean?” he wants to bury his head in the shorter boy’s neck, distract him just enough that Sebastian can organise his thoughts. 

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?” 

That stops him. He’s been known to talk about all the time he spent in the arms of older men before he got to Dalton (although never to specify exactly when such things had happened), but he had been so sure Blaine knew that he was the only person he’d been with since that first night. 

“Are you?” Blaine shakes his head. He sighs, trying not to let the desperation for his pseudo-boyfriend to understand seep into his words. “Did you really think I would when I have you?” 

Blaine shrugs helplessly and it’s right then, with the best boy he knows cuddled into his chest, that he’s willing to take the first step towards being an honest man. “Do you remember Nick’s party after sectionals?” 

“Before or after we woke up in bed together?” 

“Before. When you were talking about the red string of fate,” he takes Blaine’s hand in his own, stroking his thumb softly across the veins on his wrist. “Made me wonder if, with enough strength, you could somehow drag your soulmate towards you. Reckon it’s possible?” 

“And if I were to try it and, for reasons unknown, Trent was dragged into the room without his consent,” Blaine asks, his laughter already rumbling in his chest as he tries to get the words out. “How would you react to the fact that Trent is my soulmate?” 

“Nixon is definitely not your soulmate,” he protests, dropping a kiss on his shoulder with a small smile. “Stand over by the door.” 

“Is this some weird sex thing now?” Blaine laughs, quickly moving away when Sebastian swatted at his ass. “Just go!” 

He thinks about not going through with his stupid idea, just making it into the weird sex game Blaine assumes it’s going to be, but there’s a part of him that really want to see if there’s any stock to the theory they’ve somehow concocted. 

His fingertips hover over his wrist, shaking just enough that he second-guesses every decision he’s ever made. “What are you-” he refuses to let Blaine finish, tugging on the air above his hand where the red string of fate should be. At first, he’s not sure anything happened, but Blaine is quiet and, when he looks at him, his jaw is hanging open. 

“Do that again?” Blaine insists, so he does and, because he was watching Blaine the whole time, he sees him lunge forward at Sebastian’s movement. 

“Does this mean…” he wanted it to, desperately in fact, but it wasn’t something he’d let himself believe. But, and he was sure his nine year old self would agree, there’s hardly another explanation unless Blaine is fucking with him. He’d wager against that, though, based purely on how shocked he looks. “I think so.” 

It’s the best proof they’ve got, and it’s unchartered territory for them both, but they’re soulmates and that means everything else should just fall into place. 

That’s what Pam tells them anyway. 

A mother just knows.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr


End file.
